


When war gets it.

by JillNeverland



Series: When universes collide... And no one gives a damn about it. [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Bombs, Caretaking, Depression, Love, Modern Era, Nightmares, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Apocalypse, South Africa, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 08:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JillNeverland/pseuds/JillNeverland
Summary: Crowley wants to save his angel, once again...But isn't there the other way around?





	When war gets it.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Warnings : angst, depictions of violence.
> 
> 2) wrote this for the #gofanexchange on Twitter. One of the prompts I've received was "Any historical moments"
> 
> 3) I'm so sorry for the short length and quick writing... I'm in the middle of a moving out situation... I'm actually posting this on my phone, because I'm no longer at my previous home. XD 
> 
> 4) English isn't my native language. If you see any mistakes, feel free to comment them, I'll correct them ASAP.

Vietnam - 1972

Another bomb dropped a couple of feets away from the slender red headed soldier, making him fall backwards by the blast created. Hitting his back on the ground, he grunted, his gun dropping next to him. Drops of blood from two of his five remaining companions fell on him. Gritting his teeth, he wiped out his face. Of course those stupid american bombers wouldn’t care where they aimed their weapons and how many victims were made. He turned over, his ears still deafened by the blast, and started to rise on his hands and knees. 

His glasses were ruined. He picked up another pair from his jacket’s inside pocket, putting them firmly on the base of his nose, then sat on his heels, looking around him. One of the three surviving co soldiers was shouting from the loss of one limb. Another was knocked down. The third one was glaring absentmindedly in front of him, a stranger’s body part on him. The demon stood up, picking his gun, then helped the three men get a grip back on reality, picking up the injured one and moving again towards the forest that was spreading in front of them… Not the best hiding place, but still better than a large rice field. 

He knew that, up to this point, they were easy targets… But he also knew that a small secure village was standing nearby… And they had a hospital for war injured men that couldn’t get back to their bases, since that was enemy territory. 

Well… He didn’t know who were the enemies anymore. He didn’t think that his companions could understand the difference too. 

When they engaged in the huge verdant hiding place, a small sigh of relief escaped his lips. Oh, he could do some miracles… Mostly minor ones though. He didn’t wanted Hell to dig too deep in his path and his actions. His fellow soldiers were famished and thirsty, and he would have to stop to allow them a small time to ensure they would be able to stand until they reach that small town. He needed to make sure the injured one could make it until the end. They kept walking in the forest, getting deeper in there, for a couple of minutes before they found a small glade that allowed them to rest a bit. 

A small stream was running in the middle of the greenery. He put down the injured man, taking care of the wound with a homemade bandage, then cleaning the drying blood he had since the bombing from his face and arms. Not much, but that helped him a bit. He realized a large patch of blood was getting bigger on his torso. He brushed it off with a snap of fingers. It was only a vessel after all. He had more important matters in his hands, like the three men around him. They needed to reach the camp before the night if they wanted to survive, so they needed to move fast. 

They heard bombs from the distance during that long walk. And they had to hide for a couple of minutes after hearing strange noises a few feet away from them. But, eventually, when the night was down and they were ready to give up and sleep in the middle of nowhere, the demon saw lights from the distance. Hope raising in their hearts, they hurried towards the fire that they could see, the injured soldier getting closer to death by every minute. 

It was a camp. 

As caucasians and asians started to take care of them, mostly when they saw the leg-less companion of his back, the snake from Eden started to look around him. He had hoped that He would be there. He had been looking for Him since a year now. He knew He had gone to Vietnam to try to save people from that bloody dirty war… And this was the last place He could be… The demon had roamed the whole country to find Him… And get Him home. It was far too dangerous here… 

He only hoped he wasn’t too late. 

He ignored the shouts and orders around him. 

He ignored the men trying to make him move.

His ears started buzzing. 

He started to loose hope. 

Then everything went dark. 

He woke up on a camp bed, under a tent. His jacket had been taken off, his torso covered by large bandages that were covered in blood. He tried breathing to keep human appearances but his lungs hurt him a lot. He sat up with difficulty, taking off the bandage slowly. 

He had a large cut from his lungs to his stomach. It wasn’t a regular one. Pain rose up, forbidding him to look further, making him fall back on the uncomfortable bed with a grunt. A gush of fresh air made him understand someone had gotten in the tent. His eyes closed, he tried to concentrate to make the pain go away and keep human looks. A soft hand went in his soldier’s short hair, soothing him, making him relax a bit. He felt the loose bandage being tugged out from his back, then he heard a soft man’s voice. 

“It took me a while to get you wrapped up in this safely. I’d like you not undoing my work next time, if you don’t mind.” 

The demon couldn’t find an answer. Relief ran through his body. The voice was too familiar, and yet so different. “Aziraphale ?”

His own voice was hoarse. When he opened his eyes he could see the angel’s worried and bright face over him. He looked sadder and more exhausted than in 1967. His friend gave him a small smile. “I wasn’t expecting you here… You’re not here to cause mischief, are you ?” The demon shook his head, unable to speak as another rush of pain ran through his thin vessel. The principality took another clean bandage and a piece of cloth soaked with alcohol and some water. He began to clean the open wound, making the snake sneer in pain. With his free hand, the angel soothed his friend by stroking his hair again. Once happy with his work, he proceeded to putting the new bandage in its right place. “I could miracle it closed, but it would look too suspicious. I already did a huge work on you to make it look like a wound that any human could get over with a bit of adrenaline. Frankly, I’m quite happy you had passed out… It would have been painful otherwise.” 

Crowley was starting to relax a bit. It was still hurting him, but his fall had been far more unbearable than this. He could face it. “What… What are you… Doing here ?”

“I could return you the question.” The demon’s vision started to blur. “People needed help. Too many of them were in pain. I… I couldn’t stand there in my bookshop and do nothing.”

“You… Had to… Be… In the middle… Of a conflict ?!?” Aziraphale chuckled. 

“I am no soldier… Compared to you.” His eyes showed a flash of sadness before softening. “You need some rest, demon or not. Stay there. I’ll be checking on you as much as I can. I’ll be there when you will wake up.” The snake’s eyes closed again, slowly, drifting into a peaceful sleep.

The sound of a mine exploding in the woods a couple of miles away and the shout of one of his fellow soldiers made him wake up in a hurry. Picking up the nearest weapon, he stood up slowly, trying to get out of the tent to see who was injured. Except from that shout, the whole camp was pretty much silent. He peaked out the tent, carefully, and was startled by a shadow pushing him back inside. As he was about to get out, full army mode, his angel got back inside, gripping his arm tighly, pushing him back on the camp bed. 

“I’m not letting you ruin the stitches again.” His voice was as low as a whisper. “You should go back to sleep. Moving too much attract unwanted visitors. No matter how much I will shield it, I’m not able to make it completely invisible.” The demon was a bit dizzy, glad to lie down again.

“… What happened ?”

“Mines have been disposed almost everywhere in that country… Some soldier must have stepped on it. It startled one of your friends.”

“They aren’t… friends.” 

“Hush now. We should be quiet.”

Having Aziraphale by his side calmed him down. As the platinium haired celestial was about to leave him again, he grabbed his forearm. The angel frowned, trying to figure out the reason of this reaction. His friend’s eyes were pleading him, silently, to stay. As the demon loosened his grip, his eyes avoiding him little by little, Aziraphale came closer, his features softening. 

“I have to check on everyone.” 

“Can’t you… Miracle a small check ?” The angel’s mouth sides quirked up. 

“I… I don’t think… Upstairs would like that.” The demon shrugged slightly then move his head on the other side. A couple of minutes passed in silence, and he could still feel his friend’s presence next to him. Then he felt a little shift under him. He raised an eyebrow, looking at the celestial that was making a move to lie down. “… I would… Use a bit of space.” As the snake moved slightly to his side, leaving enough emptiness for the angel to fill it, his glare still questionning him. The latter layed on his side, his eyes unsure on where to stay, which made the demon smirk. 

“Change of mind ?”

“I guess… They can wait a bit.” 

Aziraphale started to stroke Crowley’s hair, making him shiver and lean towards his touch. His eyes closed, drifting slowly into a more peaceful sleep, he started to cage his angel against him, like a snake would do with his prey. The celestial sighed, then relaxed, allowing himself to rest. It wouldn’t kill anyone if he closed his eyes a couple of minutes… 

When the demon woke up, it was late morning. The sun was high in the sky, and people were moving in the clandestine camp. He started to stretch… When he realized he had turned into his snake form and had rolled around his best friend during the night, an insistent thought of hatred against himself made him shift back to his human form, miracling new clothes and moving to sit on the side of the camp bed. Sleeping with an angel… That was new. And far nicer than he would ever admit, mostly after all that dirty war problem. 

Of course he had taken credit of that stupidness. The less demons knew about his whereabouts, the better it was… Mostly about humans. If they knew he had been looking for a principality… He would have been considered a traitor… And it was either the pit or holy water. Neither of those options interested him. Beelzebub and Hastur were quite a pair when it came to making him suffer… But he liked making them uncomfortable. It was funny how inept demons could be about new technologies. He had had problems at first for keeping up with the humans… But it was long gone now. 

Aziraphale shifted as he woke up slowly. His soft eyes widening in shock and horror as he realized what had happened. Crowley laid a reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. They handled your rest very well. They’re used to work here.”

The angel sat up, trying to calm his panic down. He wasn’t freaking out about his fellow doctors. Of course they would manage… He simply, deeply hoped upstairs didn’t noticed. That was the closest he ever had been to Crowley. And he was starting to regret it, no matter how nice it felt. He stood up, unable to look at his best friend’s face. “I… I’m going to check up on the other patients. I’ll be back.” 

He left the tent in a hurry, his face burning and eyes avoiding any eye contact with anyone. Oh he wished he had gone back to Heaven sooner. This was exactly what he feared the most… 

It’s a demon. He can’t like a demon. 

A coworker interrupted his thoughts and walked him next to the most injured soldier. That was a relief. 

Crowley was still sitting on the edge of the bed, confused. That wasn’t the kind of reaction he expected from the angel. Running away from him like he was some ghost to avoid… Or some monster. Not his angel. He stood up, checking on his fellow soldiers, giving the camp a proper look. Woods everywhere around them, tents placed in a circle, several men a a couple of women from different nationalities running around. Of course the Principality didn’t care where they came from, as long as they were promoting peace. 

A bomb resonated in the distance, startling the demon. 

This was such a dirty war. 

He needed clean clothes. His were stained by blood and dirt, smelling of sulphur. He needed a bath too. He could miracle all those things, but it was more pleasant to get it done by hand. He asked one of the medics where he could find all this. She showed him around, letting him pick up a tank top and some trousers before taking him in front of the “bathtub”. A huge bucket with a smaller one filled with clean cold water. As she left him alone, he sat in that improvised bathtub, naked, warming the water with a flick of his wrist. He scrubbed himself, relaxing in the dirty liquid when it was finished. He wanted to go home. He’d talk about this to his angel when he’d cross his path. Drying himself, he jumped in the clean clothes, drawing a shaky breath of pleasure and relaxation. 

When he left the bath tent, he decided to busy himself until Aziraphale stopped avoiding him. He filled buckets of clean water, helped with the food and patients, then went for a walk around. Mines were surrounding this place… If some paths were free of them, no one would notice… And he could always show the way. 

Another bomb dropped a little further away. 

If he had a heart, it would have stopped. 

But he was a demon. 

Crowley sat down with all the camp workers, taking a glass of beer, refusing politely the soup offered. It was easier to deal with feelings when he was drunk. He realized that around the roman empire era, when Hell started questionning his choices with Jesus. What a mess. The soldiers and doctors were talking about their families, recounting good memories, hoping for good omens. 

Aziraphale came to join them. The only place left was on the demon’s right side, so he sat there a bit reluctantly. The work in the camp busied him too much to think about what happened in the morning. All the doubts came rushing back and he avoided any eye contact and any word with his fellow celestial. But little by little, everyone went to sleep, exhausted, the remaining ones being the night shift, either protecting the camp or taking care of the patients. He was left alone with the demon, still sitting next to him. 

“How was your day ?” The question startled the angel. 

“B… Busy. Yours ?”

“Same.” The demon downed his fourth glass with a large gulp. 

“… You… You didn’t answered my question… About your presence… here ?” The snake looked at his friend. 

“Well… I came here to… Take you back in London.” The angel’s eyebrows shot up.

“Why ?”

“Too dangerous here… And it won’t stop until humans make it stop so…”

“People need my help.”

“People need each other’s help. Not yours specifically.” Aziraphale started to become furious.

“They feel safe around me. They need me. You can’t understand.” Crowley sighed. 

“I do. But you have to understand you can’t save the world by yourself. Humans are far too much self centered to see what’s happening.”

“I can’t leave them.”

“You will be discorporated.”

“You ran a far bigger threat than me !” The demon groaned. 

“I’m trying to save your ass there.”

“I don’t need your help !”

The snake stood up under the angel’s angry and indignant stare. “Fine. But don’t wait for me to save you if you’re in a bad situation.” He started to walk away from the camp, startling his friend.

“Where are you going ?”

“Somewhere else.”

“Crowley.”

“Don’t.”

Aziraphale’s stare saddened as the demon’s shape started to fade in the darkness. He never liked when they parted ways like that. It happened only once, and he remembered it as clear as water. Yet his awareness of Heaven forbid him to run towards his friend, no matter how much he didn’t wanted him to leave. It was dangerous by night… And he cared. 

\---------------------------------------------------

Saigon. 

He had been sleeping in that town for a couple of days now, waiting for the plane that would take him back to London. Oh, he would have some stops, but it was better than a miracle to get there. It would be too suspicious. Better have a low profile. As he reached the poor hotel he had been sleeping in, a bottle of wine in a paper bag, he wondered what kind of punishment he could have from Hell if he went clearly against them and joined Aziraphale in his stupid camp. He did wanted to save people too… All the victims he had seen, from bombs or shootings, made him sick. And it made him sicker that Hell could think it was his doing… 

He couldn’t bear seeing dead children. Who in their right minds could kill children without a remorse ? 

He opened the door of the dark room he had been living in, sitting on the edge of the bed, popping the bottle open and drank a large gulp of it. His green shirt had a little hole in the back from his trip in the woods. He hadn’t bothered changing since he came here, mostly drinking after buying that stupid plane ticket. He layed down, staring at the ceiling’s fan, trying to isolate its sound to avoid the laughs and voices around. 

He emptied the bottle, putting it on the ground, hearing a young boy laughing with his mother in the corridor. He could still hear the echoes of bombs and mines… The echoes of bullets… 

Then something shifted. 

Something was wrong. 

Very wrong. 

His eyes closed, he tried to figure out what was happening. 

What did he… 

Oh. 

No. 

No no no no no no no no no… 

He jumped out of the bed, his drunken state slowing his reflexes, running towards the corridor, taking the child in his arms… 

And he jumped out of the window. 

Then a huge explosion echoed behind him, the force of the blast pushing him further away in the street before he could reach the ground. 

He rolled a couple of meters, his vessel hurting… 

He let go of the boy, then looked at him, making sure he was okay. 

He wasn’t. 

A large wood shard had went through his small body. 

Crowley rolled on his back, his eyes fixated on the cloudy night sky above, his thoughts becoming numb. 

This was too much. It was always too much… Always worse. 

He couldn’t bear it anymore. 

And he closed his eyes. 

Aziraphale was walking down the streets of Saigon, carrying two bags of groceries for the camp. As he put them in the trunk of the car they had, he heard a building exploding. 

A bomb had been dropped. 

Again. 

He ran towards the site, hoping to see someone he could save… Usually there weren’t any survivors. But he hoped. 

He saw two bodies on the ground, a few feets away from the burning hotel. 

A young boy. He was dead. He could feel it. 

And… A man. 

A demon. 

His demon. 

He wasn’t moving, laying on his back, eyes closed. The angel ran towards him, trying to shake him up. His friend didn’t answer. 

As tears went down his cheeks, he shouted for help. 

Crowley was in Hell. 

He could recognize the walls out of anywhere. 

And the smell. 

And the sounds. 

As he walked like a zombie against the current made by the others, Hastur saw him from afar. The latter called his demon’s name, but he didn’t react. He looked at one of the iron doors. There was a hellhound on the other side. It could be worth trying… 

Four hands pushed him away. His stare was empty from any spark of imagination. He was lost. Hastur was in shock, Lord Beelzebub seemed furious. 

“What the fuck is that about, demon Crowley ?!?” The snake gave its Lord a confused stare.

“… What ?”

“Opening a hellhound’s cage ? You could have destroyed us all !!! What were you thinking ?!?” Both demons were like a barrier in front of the iron door. Hastur hadn’t dared to speak. He could feel something strange off the snake of Eden.

“I… Wasn’t thinking straight… Sorry. Gotta go.”

Before any of the two worried demons could answer him, he disappeared. 

As he woke up, he could feel a presence next to him, on top of him, holding him tightly. He opened his eyes, looking down, ending up staring at platinium hair. He recognized its owner under a second, a soft sigh making him relax a bit. He felt numb, but a bit more safe. He was on a bed, in a nice bedroom. He could hear the familiar sounds of Saigon, so he hadn’t moved. He started to move away from the angel’s embrace when the latter woke up. 

“C… Crowley ?” The demon put his arm on the bed as he sat up. 

“Shhh… Go back to sleep.” It was a stupid request. His friend was fully awake.

“… I… I thought I lost you.”

“You thought wrong.” He stood up, miracling his clothes clean for the plane. 

“… Where are you going ?” The demon looked through the window, watching the way the town seemed alive. 

“Home.” The angel sat up on the bed. 

“Can I go with you ?” The snake’s right eyebrow shot up. 

“What for ?”

“I want to go home too.”

Crowley sighed then offered his hand. Aziraphale looked at him, for a sign… Then took it. 

And with a snap of fingers, they were in the angel’s bookshop in Soho. 

The demon left the place without a word. 

So much for avoiding miracles…

\-----------------------------------------------------

South Africa – Pretoria - May 10th 1994

Aziraphale was beaming. Nelson Mandela was becoming president of South Africa, and it was the inauguration. The real start of the end of apartheid. A huge step he had been looking forward for years. If not centuries. He was dressed with a boubou a friend made him for this moment. A turban on his hair, his face showing his delight at the president’s voice. It would definitely be one of his favourite History moments. From time to time, humans did good things…

“Of course you would be there, angel.” The familiar voice startled him a bit and made the principality happier. The demon was dressed like one of those europeans investors and politicians. A black suit, with a black hat on him… 

The same he wore when he saved him from those nazis in 1940… The simple thought made the angel’s aura glow brighter. His hair had grew enough to allow him to make a ponytail. His round sunglasses still on the tip of his nose. “Crowley ! Nice to see you there. Well… Unless if you came here to cause mischief…” The snake sighed. 

“Thankfully, Hell left me alone for some time. All those wars going on are making them happy enough. I’ve heard of Mandela. A strange man. I’ve met his wife… Ex-wife ? Sooner… A more active protester I guess…” Aziraphale sighed. 

“She was amazing… But I think that having a peaceful president may help this country much more than any other one… It’s a great day.”

“Have you talked to him ?”

“Briefly… When he was in jail. I wasn’t allowed to talk too much with him. He was already very aware of the world he’s living in, and what to do to make it better… Such a treat… A bit sad it didn’t ended up this way sooner...” 

“Humans need time to accept the idea of change… Then several centuries to accept that change. And… When they do love it… It’s already obsolete.” 

The angel didn’t have much to say to this… The demon was too right about it. He raised an eyebrow. “So, if you weren’t doing some Hellish things, what did you do those last twenty years ?”

The snake avoided his gaze, shrugging his shoulders. “Not much. You ?”

The principality frowned, a bit surprised. Usually Crowley loved talking about his work. “I have spend time in my bookshop, collecting several first editions. Still looking for that Agnes Nutter’s prophecy book. Nothing yet.” He paused for several seconds before lighting up. “I’ve found that edition of ‘Hamlet’ you lost several centuries ago… The one Shakespeare signed for us !”

The demon’s face darkened, his stare lost somewhere between the stage and the floor made of dirt. “Amazing.”

Aziraphale raised both eyebrows. “Well, I thought this would bring you much joy...”

“Not interested.”

“That’s pretty rude.”

“That is.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. There never was an uncomfortable silence. Ever. The angel looked at his friend worryingly. “Usually you are more talkative.”

“I don’t really like talking about the past lately. It’s the past. That’s all.”

“Well, you...”

“The discussion is over.”

“What happened ? Did Hell bothered you ? Did Gabriel...”

“Stop.”

The low growl startled the angel. He felt threatened. For the first time in 6 000 years, Crowley scared him. “I… I’d like to know.”

“I told you. Nothing much. And don’t act like you care. I’m a demon. Keep making sure all my plans are thwarted and you will be okay.”

Aziraphale felt a pang in his soul. His friend was distressed. And angry. “But… I do care.”

“If that’s what you think, good for you.”

“Crowley…”

The angel was cut short when everyone applauded and shouted to greet the new president. He looked at Mandela, smiling and joining the joy of the crowd. When it was finished, he turned to realize his friend had disappeared. 

Again. 

He didn’t lie. Nothing had happened. 

He may have left very early from the bookshop before Aziraphale could notice that day he had miracled them back in London, without a word. 

Beelzebub and Lucifer may have tried to contact him for weeks, with him turning them down without a doubt. 

Hastur may have paid him a… Worried visit ? And may have got thrown away with a punch right in his nose… 

And he may have thrown himself into the M25 idea to bury all those incidents and stroke those demons’ feathers the right way. 

He couldn’t look at children anymore. 

All he could feel was hatred towards adults. 

And for months, he battled with the fact he couldn’t even bear to stand up from his bed. 

But he did something. 

And nothing happened. Right ?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a lot for reading through this!!!! Hope you liked it...  
Or not.   
Don't worry, I know I'm pretty much trash when it comes to writing. XD


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